Wolves only Howl at Midnight
by TheRedDragoon
Summary: With the treaty of Gongmen City, the wolves are finally finding their feet again after the fiasco that was Lord Shen. However, they will soon learn that not all ghosts go quietly into the afterlife. (No paranormal themes - it's a metaphor)


AN: This story takes place after KFP2 ended and is rated M for strong language, violence and gore. Nothing too terrible, but definitely above a T rating. Also, this is my first time dipping into KFP, so any and all tips (pointing out canon errors) are appreciated. Finally, I am fairly new to writing so thus any and all constructive criticism is useful no matter how harsh.

**Wolves only Howl at Midnight**

* * *

"_It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend" – William Blake_

* * *

Rafe wiped the glass thoroughly as he watched the proceedings. It wasn't important that the rag was making the glass dirtier, but rather that he appeared busy and thus unapproachable for conversation.

Unfortunately, a gray wolf that responded to the name Thunder didn't get the message. "Rafe, keep the drinks coming, we plan on forgetting this night as early as possible!"

Raunchy cheers erupted throughout the small tavern as wolves started hitting their mugs on the tables in rhythmic passion. It sounded almost like applause and, with a lurch of his stomach, reminded Rafe of the sickening marches that used to encompass the area – and the pain that followed them.

"Come on Rafe, cheer up. With…" the wolf stumbled over his words, a brief wisp of fear appearing on his face, "that guy gone, and the treaty with Gongmen City, the wolf clans are finally back on their feet!"

Rafe turned away from the smiling wolf and set about getting their drinks. Thunder merely laughed and said, "Sooner or later even you will succumb to the good mood tonight my friend."

Without turning or pausing in his task, Rafe replied in a flat, dry tone, "I thought wolves didn't howl until midnight?"

A sweet, yet authoritative voice answered the old wolf. "I guess that just means we will have to make sure that we don't pass out till one then. Doesn't mean that we can't drink in the meantime."

Not sure of the speaker, Rafe turned and glanced over the counter before recognition sparked in his green eyes. With a vociferous sigh the wolf lightly shook his head before responding, "Raindance, why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your family to give respect to your deceased brother?"

A deep growl arose from Thunder, "Now is a time for happiness, not painful reminders."

Rafe ignored the aggravated wolf and watched Raindance carefully. Her brow had fallen slightly, and her ears were drooping like a sagging plant. Small sparkles appeared in her eyes almost like sparkles in fresh snow. Sniffling quickly, she shook her head, smiled half-heartedly and turned away – disappearing into the crowd, a lost puppy searching for its parents.

Thunder slammed his mug down on the counter, splitting the wooden cup with his power. "What the hell is wrong with you, you old mutt?" He paused for a second and narrowed his eyes. When he spoke again it was quieter yet held twice the meaning, "No one should forget the dead, but there is a time and place for everything. That," he waved his paws in a quick circle, "was not it."

Raising an eyebrow Howl refocused his attention on the angry wolf. "Really? I thought this whole celebration was happening because somebody died?"

Thunder stiffened immediately; his eyes wouldn't meet the old wolf. Rafe could have sworn that he smelt guilt on the gray animal, but chalked it up to poor hygiene.

"He…had good ideas." The wolf's gaze was drawn to the floor, and he was rubbing his chin with a paw. "I mean, we all bought and agreed with what he said. How were we supposed to know that he would take it so far?"

Rafe sighed. "Megalomaniacs don't exactly follow the same track of logic that you or I do Thunder."

Thunder snorted and rolled his eyes with exasperation. "I don't remember you complaining about what was going on."

Rafe didn't respond and instead focused on the fire that some of his patrons had decided to light in the fireplace. The yellow and red flames whipped and fought against their designated location – their bonds. It would, without a doubt, take advantage of any weakness or lapse in judgment and burn them all. Just like wolves.

"-besides, its over now and we don't have to think about it. The peacock is dead, it's not as if he can do anything anymore."

Moving his gaze back to Thunder, Rafe watched the younger wolf with pity in his eyes. "The crazy thing about the dead is that they have a tendency to stay with you forever," Rafe's voice was saturated with wisdom, obviously spoken from experience.

"Huh? What do you mean?" a young wolf nearby asked.

Rafe glanced over at the young kid. Less than two-dozen seasons had passed for this young lad, and at just a glance the old wolf could count more scars than that. Life in the last few years had not been pleasant to his kind. Perhaps that's why he found the young ones name – Fridolf, which stood for peaceful wolf in the common tongue – sadly ironic.

Rafe paused to take a long, slow drink. "The dead can never improve their standing, how they left the world is how they will always be remembered. If they had been bad before they died, they will always be bad. There is no redemption, they will haunt you forever."

Fridolf nodded his head slowly and carefully. "Sure, but that doesn't mean that they can affect us or anything."

Another wolf spoke up, a large, imposing lad who answered to the name Maccon, "Yeah, they would have to be like a ghost or something, and that doesn't make any sense."

Thunder chuckled lightly. "Well, the peacock did look something like a ghost didn't he?"

"Sure he did, those white feathers were just unnatural, and his eyes," Maccon shuddered viciously from head to tail, "they were just…wrong."

Various murmurs from around the tavern popped out in agreement.

"Why are you guys talking about this anyway," a random wolf's voice slurred out, "the war is over, we are at peace with Gongmen city, and Lord Shen is-."

CLANK

The room went deathly quiet, only perturbed one second later by the shatter of the glass Howl dropped. The beating of a fly's heart would have been audible, so absolute was the blanket of silence.

CLANK

A shiver passed through the crowd as a wave would in a concert or social gathering – only concerts didn't usually make you feel sick with fear. All eyes turned toward the door, trepidation drawn into their body language through sagging ears, half smiles and wide eyes.

CLANK

The noise could really only belong to one thing, Nothing else had ever sounded like it. Sharp and eerie, like the noise itself was puncturing all noble thoughts from your mind – defiling you with nasty intentions.

CLANK

Rafe closed his eyes and tried to think of anything that would be able mimic the sound. His mind came up blank. So instead, he prayed that some senseless wolf had found the body and decided to take a souvenir to act out a prank.

CLANK

With shortness of breath, Rafe fell beneath the counter and shuddered. There was certainly nothing else it could be. The only sound that could make the old wolf feel so hopeless were the metal talons of a prince. That Prince.

The door slammed open, snapping off his hinges and the occupants of the room jumped.

"How…convenient that you are all in here." The voice could be comparable to venom – smooth, yet deadly with grace and power.

Shifting his position slightly, Rafe looked through the hole in the counter. He had been meaning to get it replaced, but had never gotten around to it. The old wolf pushed his eye as close to the hole as possible, wincing slightly as the wood cut into his face lightly. But that didn't matter. No, Rafe needed to see it with his own eye.

The figure was clothed in a majestic robe, embroiled and regal – more than fit for royalty. While the clothing could be intimating, they were nothing to the animal they confined.

White feathers adorned his body; his grace and posture suggested someone of high standing. A large train was drawn behind him, with large red eye-like-shapes on his tail feathers. The most striking part of his appearance, however, was his face. Instead of the clean, aristocratic look, his facial features were covered in scars and scabs. Part of his face was even burned black, and some of his eyebrows were missing.

The peacock wasn't overly large, nothing compared to some of the present company, but his presence overshadowed all. He was like a giant, and they were merely bugs to him.

"Now where are your manners?" The peacock strutted toward one of the tables with grace only years could obtain, "After all it was a long journey, Your Lord is tired, and yet you sit here like a pack of moronic statues. And to think, I thought your kind would ever be able to be civilized, normal animals."

Lord Shen reached the table in the center of the room and paused. Turning his gaze sideways, he raised his eyebrow at a nearby young wolf.

The young wolf, which Rafe recognized as Fridolf, quickly yelped before standing up and bowing deeply. The lord observed, bored, as the wolf pulled out a chair for the peacock to sit down.

"What is your name young one?" Shen sat down, moving his wings inside his robe.

"Fridolf, My Lord," the wolf stuttered out. His face was pale, almost whiter than the feathers worn by the intimidating peacock prince.

"How…nice." Lord Shen turned and smiled at the wolf. "Unfortunately, it's too little, too late Fridolf."

Faster than anyone could imagine, Shen was in motion, his wing holding a feather-shaped knife, which he hurled right into the young pups neck. So powerful was his throw that the tip of the knife actually poked out the opposite side, and Fridolf collapsed to the ground dead.

It was right there that Rafe knew this was no ghost, dream or aspiration. No one else could be so cruel and egotistical.

"To think that, even after all this time, you wolves are still incapable of the simplest of orders and etiquette." Shen's voice was not loud, but it had no problem reaching the corners of the tavern. Deep and calculating, it meant one thing: that Lord Shen was not happy.

"I have been more than lenient with all of you." Shen stared down all who dared look at the prince. "No longer. You fuck up, and I will kill you, period."

"How could you do that? He was just a kid!" The voice of outcry was exasperated and heavy, oversaturated with emotion. It was almost like an overflowing river, its words the current – but their clarity and pace were marred by debris. Racing out of the crowd toward the fallen comrade was a moderately-sized wolf, primary light gray with some black stripes coloring her fur.

Lord Shen watched, seemingly bored, but Rafe noticed that his wings were back inside his robes – and his left eye was twitching slightly.

The wolf, Raindance, reached her dead friend and kneeled down. Rafe couldn't see what she was doing, the young pups body blocked his sight. A few seconds passed, and Raindance didn't seem to move.

Instead, Rafe found his attention focused back on the peacock prince.

Shen moved one of his wings out of his robe – a glistering knife in his grasp. The entire room tensed up as the lord lifted the weapon, eyeing it with reverence. However, Lord Shen merely played with the weapon before speaking in a bored tone, "Good, I needed someone to take this filth away from my presence."

"I'll kill you, you…bastard!" Raindance shouted. She quickly stood up and tried to jump at the peacock but was held back by Thunder. Fridolf 's bright red blood dripped off of her paws as she tried to swat at Thunder to break his grip. Rafe watched as Thunder whispered something to the female and after a moment she stopped struggling and lightly nodded her head.

Shen, still playing with his weapon, continued on with the same tone as before. "I still need someone to get this disgusting disgrace of an animal away from me. His stench is dirtying the air I breathe, and that is not acceptable."

Thunder pushed Raindance to the side and turned toward the peacock prince, rage dancing in his eyes. "You know what Shen, every time we get involved with you bad stuff happens to everyone. So why don't you just fuck off and leave us alone?"

Before Rafe could even fathomed what happened, Shen was on his feet right in Thunders face. "Care to say that again?" It was a tone that Rafe would never be able to adequately explain: full of hate, power, and insanity.

Thunder hesitated with a flash of fear appearing on his face. But just like lightning, it was gone a second later and replaced with stony disposition. Staring the prince down, the gray wolf said, voice loud and clear, "Leave us alone. We are done with you, and your bat-shit insane plans."

One second everything was fine, and Rafe thought for a fleeting moment that Shen might just let it be. The next, Thunder was on the ground wheezing and gasping as red liquid drained from his mouth, pooling on the floor beneath the wiggling wolf.

Lord Shen sighed loudly and disdainfully. "I cannot fathom why this is so difficult for you imbeciles to understand. Speak to me like that, and you lose your ability to ever speak again. It is that simple." He turned his gaze toward a horrified Raindance, "Don't worry sweetie, I haven't forgotten what you said earlier."

Rafe, with a twisted and confused expression watched as Shen dropped something on the ground and stepped toward Raindance. Focusing on the strange object on the ground – pink and fleshy – it took Rafe a minute to make the connection.

It was a tongue.

Removing his eye from the small hole, Rafe felt his stomach lurch. He didn't even try to stop the burning liquid from rising and threw up all over the floor. The disgusting residue in his mouth made the wolf inhale through his nose – only to take a deep whiff of the blood, grim and sweat in the area. His body reacted violently again, but this time there was not much left to come up, merely pain and a feeling of emptiness.

Taking a minute to calm himself down and to stop his periodic dry heaving, Rafe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had never been one for violence, death or confrontation. Even in his younger days he had been less explosive than his peers. It was probably the reason that he had outlived them all.

Breathing heavily in through his mouth and exhaling out his nose, the old wolf stood up on his wobbling legs and peered back through the hole – his curiosity outweighing his apprehensions.

Lord Shen was standing over Raindance who was laying on the floor glaring up at the prince. Her eyes ignored the small burning log that Shen held in his wing and were focused on the peacock's face, screaming defiance and hatred for her enemy. As Shen leaned closer to her, she wiggled her muzzle before spitting out with as much force as possible.

Quick as a striking snake, Shen evaded the attack, and somehow in the midst of the motion caused some embers from the log to eject. Whether this was deliberate or not, Rafe couldn't be sure.

The embers fell with unusually slow velocity and in erratic patterns. They almost looked like leaves falling off of a tree. And both signified changes to come: falling leaves represented the change of seasons; the fire would cause something far more sinister.

The majority of the embers landed straight in Raindance's fur and, with surprising haste, caused the young female to become engulfed in flame.

Her screaming was initially more of shock than pain, but that followed soon enough. After a second, she leaped off of the ground, still screeching incomprehensibly, and ran out of the tavern, tripping over a chair and causing the fire to spread.

The only thing louder than Raindance's cries of pain was Shen's laughter. He had his head tilted back and was guffawing, small tears appearing in the corners of his red eyes.

It took a minute or two for the actions of the room to sink into its drunken occupants. But when they did growling started to arise from its patrons. Anger and calls of justice started to radiate in the room, like light arising to try and clear out a sickened darkness.

Lord Shen, upon hearing the agitation, simply smiled. When he spoke, there was no trembling or hesitation, just clear, powerful words. "Remember how I said that I hate it when my subordinates fuck up?" Shen's red eyes flashed with sudden desire. "Well, I loathe traitors even more. There is nothing in this world that is cruel enough for those insolent, damned maggots." Shen chuckled deeply and slowly. "Although it does help that you are all drunk. I might have had a difficult time killing all of you if you weren't."

The peacock prince threw the burning log onto a nearby table causing it to catch on fire. Its occupants quickly scattered and fell to the floor, scrambling to get away from the inferno.

The flames reflected in Shen's eyes, highlighting madness that scared Rafe to his very bones. "I'll give the cowards among you thirty seconds before I start hunting you down."

"And that is where you would be wrong, Your Highness." Marron's voice was sarcastic and contained underlying strength, but Rafe could smell the alcohol from where he was. "No one here is a coward and we all stand together. If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get."

Rafe quickly dropped back down to the floor, breathing heavily and erratically. The smoke from the fire was already starting to spread, but the old wolf was petrified with fear. He had no idea what to do, but he knew that he couldn't stand the idea of his clan dying. Shivering, he closed his eyes, folded his ears and covered them with his paws, a small whimper escaping his mouth.

The last thing he had heard clearly before the sounds in the room had become muddled was Shen's voice, hollow and dry, "So be it."

Rafe had no idea how long he stayed there shivering underneath the counter. The scent of blood and smoke was increasing in alarming rates, and the old wolf was starting to cough painfully. Every time he tried to stand someone would scream, and Rafe would sink back down to the ground – finding irony in the fact that he was frozen in a fire.

Time lost all meaning to the wolf, as he became lost in its murky waters, drowning and with no one there to help him. Eventually the coughing became so severe that his entire body was shaking and in pain. The heat was starting to get unbearable, and the scents in the air were horrifying. Rafe knew then and there that he was going to die.

"Get up you stubborn mutt."

In his haze Rafe could barely make out the works, much less who was speaking them. Still he felt someone help him up and followed his or her lead. Coughing and sputtering, Rafe allowed himself to be led out of the burning tavern. He kept his eyes clamped shut; he couldn't even image the carnage, and had no desire to actually see it.

Once outside, the old wolf let himself fall to the ground, coughing and lightly crying in pain as his muscles screamed their protest to being exposed to such extreme heat.

"You owe me, peasant." the voice had a slight sneer to it, as if annoyed with itself.

Rafe's eyes snapped open immediately – he knew that voice. Ignoring the pain the wolf looked up and saw a large bird standing over him, glaring down. The only difference with the peacock was the spurts of red blood covering him all over – making him almost look polka dotted, like something a child would draw and color. However, by the way the bird was holding himself, Rafe was sure that none of the blood was the lords own.

The thought terrified him even more.

Rafe, still on the ground, scampered backward trying to get away from the prince. Still coughing, he tried to call out for mercy and forgiveness, but it came out as unintelligible garble.

Lord Shen merely lifted one of his eyebrows in response. Watching the wolf for a minute, Shen eventually sighed loudly and reached into his robe with a wing, taking a step closer to the old animal.

Rafe closed his eyes and trembled in place. He only hoped that it would be quick, thinking about it made him queasy. He continued to beg to the lord, hoping that something would appease him.

Suddenly, something hit him on his chest, and Rafe flinched and cried out. But the object didn't penetrate or cause any serious bodily harm. Snapping his eyes open, Rafe looked at what the prince had thrown. Carefully picking the container up, the wolf sniffed it – noting the light, lingering smell of fish. Opening it, Rafe could see that the object contained water. Confused and nervous, Rafe slowly turned his glance toward Shen, his ears folded down on his head.

"Drink." Shen watched the wide-eyed wolf carefully before rubbing the bridge between his eyes with a wing. "Why would I be so asinine as to drag you out of the burning building if I was just going to kill you? Use your brain, if you have one, you pathetic animal."

Without waiting for a response, the peacock sat down on the ground next to the flabbergasted wolf. The peacock suddenly choked and coughed. Light red liquid hit the ground in front of Shen.

Rafe opened his mouth to ask if the insane lord was okay, but Shen waved him off with a wing. A few minutes passed, and Rafe kept his attention on his companion. He had no desire to turn and see his tavern and livelihood up in flame and burning. Eventually, Rafe managed to get his breathing under control, and he lay back down on the ground – satisfied with the fluids he had consumed.

Rafe hesitated for a few seconds before finally saying, "Why didn't you kill me?"

Shen watched the wolf with a calculating expression. Rafe felt his ears drooping back down on his head – feeling somewhat like a prize being inspected for its worth.

Lord Shen lightly coughed before speaking. His voice didn't hold nearly as much hostility as before. It was as if his hate was a balloon and would need to build up again before popping. "You were the only person in that tavern that wasn't celebrating my death. You were not a traitor, they were and they paid the price. In fact, they deserved much more than death, I was merciful."

"But, I have never truly followed or agreed with you." Rafe admitted, eyes downcast on the ground.

Shen sighed. "What is the definition of a traitor?"

"I don't see-"

Shen snapped, some of his anger returning, "The definition, peasant."

Rafe gulped before speaking. "Someone who betrays ones trust or deters from their original duty in a way that harms the original party."

The peacock nodded his head in approval, "If you always disagreed with me then you are obviously not a traitor to my cause. Of course, your resistance to my ideals is something I shall have to remedy, but let's take things one step at a time – I'm aware that your stupidity requires it."

Standing up the peacock stretched out before turning toward the wolf with a glare. With some trepidation, Rafe stood up, trying to ignore the warnings that his muscles were screaming at him. One fully standing, the old wolf turned to Shen with a confused and nervous smile on his face.

Lord Shen sighed yet again, "Do you not understand? I have a long trip ahead of me and need someone to help me in the meantime and," he pointed at Rafe with his wings, "here you are."

Rafe stuttered over his words, "But how can I help you, I'm old and physically weak."

With a wave of his wing, the prince dismissed the old wolf's concerns, "I don't need you for heavy lifting, peasant. Now come."

Lord Shen started to walk away, and Rafe instinctively followed him. His body was not happy with him, but Rafe hoped that Lord Shen would find someone else at the village and leave him be.

It seemed luck was on the old wolf's side as the village was exactly where Shen was heading. Trying to ignore the burning smell in the air, Rafe started to hum a song as they walked.

"Cease that inane music immediately." Shen's voice was sharper than the point of a spear.

Needless to say, Rafe stopped humming. It was right then that the old wolf noticed something even more discerning than an annoyed Lord Shen. The smell of burning wood and smoke was not getting weaker as they left the tavern behind, but rather, getting stronger as they approached the village.

With dread growing in his stomach like some nefarious plant, Rafe followed the prince. As they neared the final bend in the forest, the old wolf could see a glow over the trees and felt the evil plant burst into bloom. Rounding the corner, his fears came into fruition.

The village was on fire.

The small community had been constructed out of wood, not out of necessity, but rather, out of desire. They had prided themselves on their carvings – an ancient art of the wolf clans. An entire array of symbols engraved into the wooden walls and the doors, each telling their own story. Of course, the doors were all barricaded shut, likely to keep the inhabitants in the buildings while they burned.

"Shame that I burned everything. It would be useful to have some supplies." Lord Shen seemed to be talking to himself. "But then again, the wolves would only have had quotidian goods anyway and that is not acceptable at all, nor is it worthy."

Rafe ignored the peacock's ramblings and collapsed onto the ground. He would never again see his grandchildren. Their laughter was the only guiding light in his otherwise dreary and dark life. And they were gone.

"…all my friends, family…dead?" Rafe managed to choke out, not even aware of what he was saying. He grabbed onto the peacock's robe, "The children didn't betray you, why…why did you kill them?"

Lord Shen's gaze turned downward toward the old wolf. No sense of pity or remorse. With a shrug of his shoulders he said, "Call it fate if you will. They are gone and you are not, deal with it."

Rafe let go of the prince's clothing and lowered his head onto the ground, sobbing uncontrollably in the dirt.

Shen laughed at the old wolf. "You're looking at it all wrong, old timer. It's not sad or gloomy. No, it's beautiful." A twinkle appeared in the peacock's red eyes, "The most important part of a story is the climax. And what is life but one big story of an animal's exploits? Death is our climax, and to be the climax in someone's life is such a rush of power. To know that you were the most critical thing to happen to them, ever." Shen held his wings out as if trying to embrace the scene, a genuine smile stretched across his face. "I love it."

Rafe ignored Lord Shen, focusing his attention on the irritation in his eyes. Everything in his life was over; he had nothing to do, nothing to live for. His only real option was to follow Lord Shen, as he had no doubt that he would never leave alive otherwise. And he was too much of a coward to defy Shen - death scared him too much. Rafe only hoped his dead brothers and sisters would understand.

Looking up the old wolf noticed a bright light in the sky. Sniffling, he tried to clear his tears enough to get a better look at the orb floating in the sky. Its position clearly told the wolf that it was right around midnight.

Ignoring the stench in the air, Rafe stood up and poured all of his pain and suffering out through his mouth, and howled at the moon.

After all, wolves only howl at midnight.


End file.
